


Yes Dean, There Is A Santa Claus

by saucyminx



Category: Supernatural
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-01-02
Updated: 2011-01-02
Packaged: 2017-10-28 11:27:42
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 21,477
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/307409
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/saucyminx/pseuds/saucyminx
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some kind of Christmasy spirit creature-thing is creating havoc. Sam convinces Dean to stop and work the case.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Sam swung the apartment door open and paused as he sniffed the air. It wasn't too bad. At least the previous resident hadn't smoked and having it furnished was always a plus. It would be like living in an actual home.

What had caught Sam’s attention while he was perusing the internet was that there had been five incidents within two weeks in the same building, an apartment building with twenty units, families mostly because of the size and layout.

It had begun with trashed holiday decorations, living rooms that looked as though they'd been vandalized, but it had escalated. There had been a beat-down, and finally a grisly murder scene. The police were guarded and it had taken Sam a _very_ long time to figure out the details.

A murdered father in a Santa suit. Blood was splattered for feet in every direction, the crime scene photos were kind of like bizarre drawings from some crazy holiday graphic novel.

Sam tilted his head when he heard the clunk of the Impala's trunk closing. Squaring his shoulders he steeled himself for _round two_ of their argument about what was going on at the apartment building.

Shouldering his way into the apartment, Dean looked around slowly then huffed, dropping his bag to the side. "So what now? Gonna bust out the box of tinsel and mistletoe?"

He couldn't believe they were actually here and doing this. Dean was fairly certain Sam was fucking with him and this was going to turn out to be some stupid prank. "We're going to the store and we're gonna get a Christmas tree and decorations. We're gonna decorate it and see what happens."

Sam sank down onto the couch and shifted around slightly testing out how comfortable it was. It wasn't too bad.

"Can we get eggnog and sugar cookies too Sammy? Can we please?" Dean clapped his hands together and bounced across the apartment, putting as much sarcasm and annoyance into the question as he could manage. He dropped onto the couch beside his brother and stared at the TV across from him. "Cable?"

"Not unless you call and convince them to come out and hook it up a couple weeks before Christmas, dude." Sam stared at the blank TV screen. The fact that Dean might just have to find another way to entertain himself was kind of amusing.

"Guess you're stuck with just me and the case to entertain you." Grinning, he leaned back against the couch; legs sprawled out in front of him. It was nice to have some space for once.

"Right. So, besides death by boredom, what else do you have planned for this thing?" Dean would likely make it one, two days maximum before he went bat shit insane from the lack of anything to do. If he didn't kill his brother by the end of this case it'd be a god damn Christmas miracle.

"It's a _case_ , Dean. We work it. There are people to talk to, an entire apartment building to check out. This thing is killing people - person. Can you imagine finding a murdered Santa Claus in _your_ living room?" Sam raised his eyebrows and glared at his brother.

"I don't fucking have a living room. Until now. Because your bright idea is to get an apartment and decorate for Christmas when you know I _hate_ this holiday." Dean stood and headed for the kitchen, opening each cupboard and frowning at the lack of food. "For the record? I'm doing the grocery shopping. Not gonna be stuck here _and_ eat your pussy ass food the whole time."

Sam couldn't help laughing. "You're kind of bitchy. You not _feel_ ing the Christmas spirit, Deany?" Smirking, Sam shrugged out of his jacket and stretched himself along the couch. He fit, it _was_ a fucking Christmas miracle.

Grabbing a plastic cup left over in the sink, Dean chucked it at his brother before pulling open the fridge. His version of a Christmas miracle came in the form of two bottles of beer left in the fridge along with a thing of mustard, ketchup and A1 steak sauce. "Thank God Almighty," Dean grumbled and grabbed both of the beers, bumping the fridge closed with his hip before crossing to the living room once more.

"Did you check out the bedroom?" He asked as he held one of the beers out to Sam. "Do you approve of the curtain colors Sammy?"

"I haven't moved from the couch since I got in here, and I'm not movin' for a while." He turned his head and narrowed his eyes at the beer. "How do you know that beer wasn't left in there by some dead guy - or worse - by the evil Santa killer? It might be poisoned." He eyed the beer suspiciously as he took it.

"It's fucking sealed bitch, and it's free, but if you don't want it," Dean shrugged, perfectly content to take both beers if his brother had an issue with it. He opened his own and dropped down in the chair, kicking his legs up on the coffee table.

"Why the fuck would the Santa killer leave beer in the fridge?" Sam rolled his eyes and twisted his beer open. "Are you gonna take this case seriously or am I gonna have to kick your ass?" Eyebrow cocked, Sam peered at his brother over the mouth of the bottle.

Nearly choking on his beer with a laugh, Dean shook his head and rolled his eyes. "Like you fucking could. Tell you what Sammy loo hoo, you show me the Grinch and I'll take this case seriously." This was the most ridiculous case they'd ever been on, Sam was insane if he thought Dean would take it seriously.

"You know," Sam sat up a little. "There really could be something like a Grinch. You can't seriously have forgotten our last Christmas case. I still can't smell ginger snaps without feeling weird. Anyway, what about the idea of giving coal to people who were bad? Where do you think that came from? And what about the idea of some old guy watching you all the time to see if you'd been bad or good. Creepy, Dean."

"Sam, as far as I know the Grinch is fucking Jim Carry in green make up with bad puns and a bad sense of humor. Have you really found information about this thing? Do you even know how to kill it?" Dean eyed his brother for a long moment then scoffed. "So we're gonna deck the halls and invite the thing here then be screwed when it shows up to mutilate us."

"You know, you're not normally this annoying about cases. What's up your ass?" Sam took a swig of his beer and toed out of his boots. He smirked when Dean frowned as they hit the floor by his feet.

Dean wasn't about to sit here and have a heart to heart with his brother about why he had no desire to do anything close to celebrating Christmas with him. "Nothing," he grunted then stood, draining his beer and setting the bottle on the table. "I'm going to get groceries, I'm fuckin' hungry. See you later."

Sam reached out quickly and snagged Dean's hand as he was walking past. "You want me to go with ya?" His thumb rubbed at the sensitive skin at Dean's wrist, _right_ over the veins that Sam always teased were shaped like an _S_.

Looking down at his brother, Dean watched him for a long moment before nodding. "Yeah alright, we can hit up the Wal-Mart and get your Christmas balls." Dean smirked at Sam for a moment but didn't step away.

As Sam swung his legs down from the couch they landed on either side of Dean's. Tipping his head back, Sam gazed up as his fingers tucked under the hem of Dean's shirt to slide up the cut of muscles across his belly.

"Only one set of balls I want anything to do with."

Dean was torn between rolling his eyes and stepping between Sam's spread legs, such was the norm for his life. "That's a classy line, bet you get all the boys with those zingers."

Dean laughed, softer and deeper than before. Sam's fingers were just the right side of calloused and warm on his stomach and Dean pressed his lips together as he stared down at his brother.

"I'm a pretty classy guy," Sam said. He shoved at his brother's t-shirt a little harder and pressed his lips to the warm skin just above Dean's belt. He could smell the leather, the musky sweat of Dean's skin. A sigh escaped Sam's lips and he smiled.

"Guess that means we're not rushing to the grocery store," Dean tried not to moan through the words and his hand slid back through Sam's hair, keeping him there. He could maybe get over being dragged into this case if Sam made it up to him.

"It's been a few days. C'mon, can't the groceries wait?" There was a familiar feeling scratching away deep inside Sam and he dragged his tongue along his brother's waist band before popping the button on his jeans open. Nosing into the split denim, Sam sucked hard on the flesh there and slid his arms around his brother's hips.

Eyes closing, Dean curled his fingers in Sam's hair and inhaled slowly. "Yeah, they can wait," he said softly and stepped closer to Sam, his legs widening until they pressed against Sam's. "I'd say you owe me for dragging me here anyway."

Sam pulled back slightly to smirk up at his brother when a deep laugh rumbled in his chest. "Guess you'd better make me pay then."

There was a glint in Dean's eyes that made Sam's cock twitch uncomfortably in his jeans. His brother loved teasing him like this, standing there like he didn't _want_ it nearly as much as Sam did.

Before Dean could answer Sam slipped his fingers into his brother's jeans, and tugged the front of his boxers down. Dean was already hard; his flesh was swollen and rigid and Sam just opened his mouth and sucked his brother down.

"Jesus, Sammy," Dean's hips automatically twitched up toward Sam, his hand in Sam's hair tightening and dragging nails over his scalp.   
"Don't have to make you do anything," he mumbled and worked his hips forward, biting off the moan that was forming low in the pit of his stomach. "You're so eager to please me- _fuck_ , Sam." Dean groaned as Sam took him all the way in.

Sam slid his tongue along the bottom of his brother's heavy cock. As full as his mouth felt he, somehow, managed to swallow the swollen flesh deeper. Moaning as he shuddered with pleasure, Sam shifted closer and curled his fingers around the base of Dean's cock. Sliding his wet mouth up and down slowly he matched the rhythm of his hand.

Losing the battle against moaning, Dean once more closed his eyes and rocked up into Sam's mouth, curling his free hand over his brother's shoulder. "Sam," he growled low in his throat and slid his hand down to the back of his brother's neck fingers digging in against the muscle. Whenever Sam was like this, so eager to please, Dean wanted to just shove him against the nearest flat surface and claim every inch of him.

Sam's hands shook as they pushed and pulled on his brother's jeans until he could dig his thumbs into that sweet spot in front of each hip bone. The press of his fingers into warm flesh pulled another moan from his brother's lips and Sam swallowed, sucked and lapped at the cock thrusting into his mouth.

The deeper Sam let him get the more Dean felt like he was going to lose his mind. It was always like this with his brother though, Sam knew all the right places to hit, knew exactly what to do to drive him crazy. Moan deepening, Dean swayed a little close. "Yeah, Sammy," he murmured, voice deep and thick as his fingers stroked encouragingly through Sam's hair.

The sound of Dean's voice made Sam's hips twist forward; his body craved the press and heat of his brother's skin. He'd been hooked since their first hesitant encounter so long ago when they were drunk. Sometimes, that first night came back to him so clearly when he tasted whisky on his brother's tongue.

Hollowing his cheeks, Sam relaxed his throat and swallowed around his brother's cock. He could feel the way Dean shuddered slightly with each swallow, fingers tightening to bruising on the back of Sam's neck.

A low growl was the only warning Dean gave his brother to the sudden slam of his release. His hips rocked forward, hard his cock sliding along Sam's tongue and making his knees give for just a moment. Sam's grip tightened on his hips though and Dean gripped his hair in his fist, rocking forward with each burst of his orgasm, Sam's mouth like a furnace constantly pressing down on him.

Sam loved the noises Dean made when he came. He was the only one who got to hear them now; another discussion that Sam remembered fondly. When he felt the first shot of hot release against the back of his throat he slid his hands forward and grabbed Dean's ass hard.

Each thrust sent a shiver down Sam's flesh. The slightly bitter taste of his brother filled his mouth and he swirled his tongue around the throbbing flesh - he did it _just_ how Dean liked it then he pulled off and gasped for air.

"God," Dean groaned and stepped back, turning until he could drop onto the couch. He felt loose limbed and slightly dizzy in a way only ever brought on by Sam. There were more difficult things in his life to admit to then the fact that Dean was fairly certain no one would ever make him come quite like Sam did. Looking over at his brother, Dean rolled his eyes at the man's pleased smile.

"Wipe that smirk off your face," Dean grunted, half-heartedly slapping his arm before snagging the sleeve and tugging him over to crush their lips together.

A deep groan curled up out of Sam's mouth into the kiss as he slid his tongue forward. The hoppy taste of the beer mixed with Dean's come and Sam sucked in a quick breath through his nose. His hand rubbed back and forth over Dean's stomach; he could still feel the way his brother's abs were rippling as the last of his pleasure twitched through his body.

Hands slightly fumbling, Dean tugged at Sam's waistline, working the button free and dragging the zipper down. Sam was rock hard, tenting his briefs out the moment Dean had the jeans free. He twisted them back and pinned Sam down on the couch. It was just barely big enough for them both to squeeze on it stretched out but they'd definitely done this in less comfortable places, like that one time behind the alley of some bar.

Fingers slipping under the elastic, Dean curled his fingers around Sam and stroked up, alternating between squeeze slides that he knew would drive Sam crazy. His tongue plunged repeatedly into his brother's mouth, thumb rolling hard and gliding over the drops of forming pre-come on Sam's cock.

There were about three seconds of clarity in Sam's mind before he moaned loud enough to be heard in the next apartment. If he were a betting man, he'd say they wouldn't be getting groceries any time soon.

Stretching his fingers out, Dean groaned at the sore muscles then snorted a laugh as he stepped out the door of the apartment. "Sam, being with you is gonna give me carpel tun-" Dean cut off sharp and his step faltered when he looked up and saw his brother standing next to the back of the Impala and talking to an older couple. Hoping they didn't get the suggestion behind his words, Dean pasted on his _innocent pretty boy_ smile and stepped up to his brother. "What's up?"

"Hey, Dean." Sam widened his eyes slightly; he was always thankful that Dean could read him like a book. "This is Carol and Jason Nelson. They live up on the second floor. I was just asking them about the _mood_ around here, the police tape in the garbage..." Smiling at the couple Sam waved his hand toward Dean. "This is my brother, Dean."

"Nice to meet you both." Dean nodded at them and smiled and prayed extra hard that they didn't get his implications regarding carpel tunnel considering the old couple knew they were brothers now. "Yeah I was wondering about the police tape myself."

"Well like we were just telling your brother," Carol began and her tone was the clichéd low whisper of someone with a secret. "There was a murder in there."

"Carol, these boys don't want to hear your gossip. Can't you see they're just moving in?" Jason frowned in disapproval, looking over his shoulders uncertainly.

"We don't mind," Dean insisted, knowing Sam had been struggling to get information and really, the quicker they took care of whatever this thing was, the quicker they could get back on the road. "Sammy's been a little concerned about the safety of this place." Dean clapped his brother on the shoulder, giving him a wide grin.

"It was sadder than the robberies." Carol sighed and shook her head, clicking her tongue in disapproval. "Young dad found in a Santa suit, he was murdered with no one even hearing him. Blood everywhere, I just have no idea how they're going to get that out of the carpet."

A little shocked, Sam ducked his head down quickly to hide his expression. Clearing his throat he glanced over at Dean

"Uh, well, yeah. Soda water maybe. Listen, do you know of any other weird things that have been going on?" Sam leaned closer, conspiratorially.

"I heard someone talking about trees and presents and stuff being trashed and someone being beat up. Do you know who that was?" Sam tried for a look somewhere between curious and respectful.

Dean thought it wouldn't look too good if they were both hanging on the woman's ever word so he walked around Sam and started picking at the bags of groceries, still convinced that Sam bought way too much. They would _not_ be here that long.

Carol's voice was a quiet murmur that Dean could just barely hear. "You heard about Richard than, he's still in the hospital. Reckon he's lost his mind though, all the things he was saying. I took him a plate of cookies, you know we try and look out for each other around here, and he was going on and on about some sort of, _creature_. Thankfully our home has yet to be touched."

"Yeah well I try and lock up tight. You boys better watch yourselves, there's someone out there with a real grudge." Jason warned ominously, touching his wife's arm. "I'll meet you inside."

"Well, Carol - thanks so much for talkin' to me. And, if you need that door fixed up let me know and I'll come round for you. We're in 107." Sam flashed his best grin, dimples, crinkled eyes - the works. His brain was already filing away the hospital information; it was a good lead.

"Take care boys," Carol called out as she followed her husband inside, hollering at him to slow down.

Dean grabbed a handful of bags and stepped back, fixing his brother with a _look_. "We're so excellent at undercover work."

Sam stabbed a finger into the middle of Dean's chest a couple of times. "I got us a lead, didn't i?"

"You want an award bitch?" Dean's eyebrows rose, his lips twitching in a smirk before he shook his head. "Get the rest of the bags so we can go check out _your_ lead."

Sam grabbed the bags and shut the card door. "So, she said creature...you think maybe that guy saw something? I really don't want another bad Christmas experience. I'm already traumatized."

"Yes, I know," Dean muttered and shook his head again. Nothing like being reminded exactly why he didn't want to go on this case in the first place. "We've done this a thousand times. That Richard guy probably saw something unbelievable, we'll figure out what it was, kill it, and get the hell out of here." Dean dropped the groceries on the counter and rolled his eyes as he pulled out a box of Christmas ornaments.

"What?" Sam grinned and set his bags down. "Check them out; they have Happy New Year on them. They were on sale." Sam prided himself on his ability to roll with the punches sometimes. Leaning his hip against the counter he smirked at Dean. "So. We go to the hospital and talk to this guy after you make us lunch then we come back here tonight and decorate the tree." Grinning Sam nodded in the direction of the off-kilter tree he had buried in a plant pot he'd dragged in front outside.

"I'm not decorating that piece of crap," Dean huffed as he pulled more food out of the bags and slid the items into the fridge. It was actually fairly full now and Dean couldn't help wondering how long exactly Sam was planning on them staying. "You really want to decorate it tonight and risk that thing coming here when we don't even know what it is?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder and looked back at his brother. "Well, we can see how it goes at the hospital. Hey Dean?"

Dean grabbed the bread and started pulling out pieces, remembering exactly how Sam took his ham and cheese sandwiches even if he hadn't made one for the boy since he was sixteen. When a few minutes passed without Sam saying anything, Dean looked back at him. "You waitin' for an invitation Princess? What do you want?"

"Do you really hate Christmas that much? I mean, I know the last one sucked but there must been some good ones right?" Sam didn't have any memories of good Christmases from when they were young. All he remembered, really, was Dean being there and making him smile no matter what. That wasn't really Christmas-related though; no matter what they were doing when they were growing up Dean had always tried to make the best of it for Sam.

Sighing, Dean turned back to the sandwiches and continued putting them together, not entirely certain how to answer. He wasn't really in the mood for any type of heart to heart with Sam but he knew how it went, avoiding the subject would only get him so far. "I don't hate Christmas. If you remember, the last one we actually attempted to celebrate it was you who put up the fight." Even when things had been bad for them as kids, Dean had always loved the holiday, but now there was a bitter after taste to the entire season.

Sam nodded and stuffed his hands in his pockets. "I guess, it's just not having family around so much. And you - you know - you were always the one carrying all the weight for the family. For _him_." When Sam glanced over at his brother he saw the man's shoulders stiffen and knew where the conversation would head if he wasn't careful. "Anyway," he said quickly, "starting over, yeah? Just you and me? We'll solve the case, get some eggnog or something gross like that and just take a few days off?"

"I'm not drinking eggnog unless it's ninety percent alcohol," Dean pointed out, slapping the pieces of bread and meat together and placing Sam's on a plate. He turned and held it out to Sam, watching his brother for a long moment. "We gonna exchange presents?" He asked flatly, not hinting whether he wanted that or not.

As his finger curled over the edge of the plate Sam tried not to let his spark of curiosity show on his face. They hadn't exchanged real presents in a long time; other than porn mags and oil. "We could, I mean. Yeah. Sure. Why not?"

"Real presents? Not gas station garbage?" Dean turned to get his own sandwich, smirking down at the food. It was pretty amusing to think about his brother trying to pick out a gift for him. Then he thought about what he might get Sam and the smirk disappeared. What the hell would he get Sam?

Sam nodded and took a huge bite out of his sandwich. While he was chewing he went back in his mind through the presents he'd given Dean over the years. Motor oil and granola bars were useful if slightly impersonal. He had gifted his brother with a furry steering wheel cover once, and apart from the laughter over rude jokes about rubbing his body against the furry thing, yeah, no. One birthday, Sam had given Dean a t-shirt with Metallica emblazoned on it; he'd worn it until he staked a vampire and got blood all over it. It could be a more difficult challenge to find his brother a gift than any they'd faced as hunters.

Nervous smile on his lips, Sam nodded. "Real presents."

Dean knew he wasn't the one laying out the ground rules for this game; Sam was completely in control here. So his brother had chosen real presents and Dean had to take that as his way of saying they really were starting over, trying to do this Christmas thing right. "Yeah okay." He nodded after a while then cleared his throat, turning to get some sodas from the fridge. "Gotta take care of your Grinch first though. You thinkin' Feds to talk to Richard? Or we gonna try reporters?" Dean was, after all, trying to let his brother take complete lead on this still ridiculous case.

"Feds." Sam looked out the window. It was almost a family building; the guy was much more likely to respond to authority figures. Half-eaten sandwich on the plate, Sam set it back on the counter.

"Dean? You wanna know what I wished for the last Christmas I believe in Santa Claus?" Sam cocked an eyebrow and tilted his head.

"Sam," Dean sighed, leaning against the counter and setting his own sandwich down. Sometimes it really sucked to dredge through their past. Meeting his brother's gaze, Dean caved to the same look he'd been caving to his own life. "What?"

When Dean's expression softened Sam leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to his brother's cheek. "You. I wrote a letter asking Santa if I could always have my big brother to take care of me." Straightening up, Sam squeezed Dean's shoulder and he passed him. "I'll get the suits out."

Dean took a moment to let Sam's words sink in, trying to calculate when he thought Sam stopped believing in Santa and what it meant for his brother to wish for _him_ of all things. Then his chest was tightening in that weird way it did some times when Sam was involved and he scoffed and trailed after his brother to the bedroom. "Leave it to you to be the cheesiest sap on the planet. You sure you didn't ask for Barbie or something?" He smacked Sam's ass as he crossed the room, pausing only long enough to tug off his shirt.

Laughing softly, Sam shook his head. Even though Dean made light of it, Sam knew that things like that _meant_ something to his brother. Unzipping the garment bag he'd brought in earlier Sam pulled out both suits. "No barbies, Jerk."

"Yeah whatever bitch, I know you had a secret stash somewhere," Dean smirked and shoved his pants off, trying not to think too much about how _domestic_ this whole thing was. "Sam?"

Halfway through tugging off his jeans Sam swayed dangerously. While trying to keep his balance on one foot, he glanced up at his brother through the hair that had fallen in his face. "Yup?"

Dean's mouth opened, the words forming on his tongue then falling away. "Can we get a big turkey for Christmas dinner? The kind where we'll have a shit load of leftovers and be eating them for days afterward?"

Something that felt a hell of a lot like sadness curled around Sam's heart and squeezed it tight. Dean never asked for anything. As his smile faded slightly, Sam nodded and kicked of his jeans. Careful to keep his voice casual, Sam spoke softly. "Yeah. Sure. We've got an oven, might as well use it."

"Do you even know how to cook a turkey?" Dean looked over at Sam then laughed as he watched his brother hop into dress pants. "Who am I kidding? You can't even get dressed right. I'll cook the turkey. I'll probably have to carve it too. You can mash potatoes." Dean wasn't looking forward to taking the traditional man of the house role, nope, not at _all_.

Dropping down onto the edge of the bed Sam pulled his pants most of the way up and yanked his t-shirt off so he could throw it at Dean. "I bet you a fifty you can't cook a turkey, dude."

"Shouldn't make those kinds of bets Sammy, we already know I'll win." Dean stepped easily into his suit pants and reached out to grab the dress shirt from the bed beside Sam. "And if I don't, then we're going hungry Christmas."

Sam smirked as he stood again and buttoned his pants. Swinging the shirt over his shoulders he slid his arms in and smiled over at his brother. "Well, either way it'll be great. You fail miserably and I get enough money to buy a nice dinner. You cook a great turkey and I get to eat a great dinner." The grin on Sam's face widened. He could see that Dean was bristling slightly at the suggestion that he might fail. Both brothers knew that Dean was the one with the cooking skill.

"You're a bitch, maybe I'll just go get some other guy to cook turkey for," Dean grumbled and fixed his tie in place, reaching out for his suit coat next. "I'm sure any _other_ guy would be bowing at my feet, praising my amazing abilities."

"Was at your feet just a few hours ago." Sam's expression darkened slightly, and he licked his lips. Maybe he wasn't praising Dean's abilities but with as good as Dean always looked in his suit Sam could predict a lot of praising later in the evening.

Dean paused for a moment then laughed, shaking his head. "Damn I brought you up right Sam; you can almost hold your own." He turned to Sam and held his hands out as his sides. "Well, I'm ready; let's get this the hell over with."

Yanking on his tie, Sam headed for the door then spun to pick up his jacket. "Ready," he muttered.

"Richard? Richard Mulligan?" Sam strode into the hospital room and couldn't help wincing slightly when he saw the bandages covering the side of the patent's face.

The man in the bed started and shied away slightly before squinting his uncovered eye and staring up at Sam. "Yeah?"

"Agents Amato and Doughty, FBI. Can we ask you a few questions?" Sam held up his fake I.D. and watched at Richard squinted at it.

At the man's faint nod Dean cleared his throat and flipped his badge closed. "We've been looking into the attacks and robberies that have happened in your complex, from the report we read you said you saw some... creature?"

Richard shifted slightly on the bed and it creaked under his weight. "I... the FBI looks into shit like that? No one here believed me." Reaching up with his good hand, he tugged at the strap that held his sling in place.

Sam paced slowly around the bed to see if he could get a look at the names on the _Get well_ cards. "Mulder and Scully were FBI."

"What?" Richard's head turned too quickly and he grimaced.

"FBI humor. It was the murder that really brought us here, especially when we learned there were burglaries and your attack as well. We think the person, or, whatever, might not stop doing this until we catch them. So anything you can tell us would be very helpful," Dean patiently explained, glancing over at his brother and rolling his lips together to keep from smirking.

Richard dragged his gaze from Sam and looked up at Dean. "It's hard to explain, it was like - so fast and there was wrapping everywhere-"

"Wrapping? Like Christmas wrapping?" When Dean scowled at him Sam added, "Just curious."

"Yeah. Listen, I know I probably sound crazy but it was kind of like being attacked by a freakin' tornado or something. Ornaments and wrapping papers and ribbons..." Richard's eyes glazed over slightly.

Lifting his eyes to his brother's Sam shrugged.

"A tornado?" Dean repeated slowly, nodding like he wasn't thinking the guy was insane. "Did the tornado uh, say, anything?"

"Are you two for real?" Richard's fingers started to slide subtly toward the nurse's buzzer.

Sam shifted quickly and unplugged it from the wall outlet with his foot. Lowering his voice he leaned in closer to Richard. "We're from a special department of the FBI. We investigate unexplained phenomena. This sounds pretty unexplained."

Richard turned slowly and then pulled back a little when he realized how close Sam was. "Yeah."

"So, it was a whirlwind kind of thing. You hear any voices? Sounds? Was there a temperature change of any kind?"

Blinking his uncovered eye a few times, Richard glanced back over at Dean. "Okay, I might have heard something, someone, _God_. This makes me sound insane. It sounded like someone was yelling at me, swearing."

"Were they yelling at you? Or were they just yelling?" Dean stepped closer but mostly kept his distance, letting Sam be the one in the guy's face for now. It was a bad time to think it but Sam was kind of really hot when he took charge like that. The guy just kept looking at him and Dean fought against an eye roll. "Did it know your name? Or refer to you in some way? Or was it just yelling?"

"It said ... it kept saying it hated Christmas," Richard said in a whisper.

"What?" Sam's eyes widened. It really _was_ the Grinch. Biting down on his bottom lip he looked everywhere but at his brother's face.

"Yeah, yeah. I know it's funny. It was shitting all over Christmas. _Hate Christmas_ , _Fuck Santa_ and stuff like that." Richard sighed and sank back into the pile of pillows behind him.

Sam blinked twice, straightened and turned to face the window. He had to bite down really hard on his tongue to stop the laughter that was welling.   
If Dean looked over at Sam he was going to lose control and either really piss off Richard or completely dash his spirits. Not to mention blowing their cover.

"Alright," Dean said quietly and nodded. "We are going to do everything we can to make the tornado like Christmas again." Dean lifted a hand and coughed into his palm, wishing only fleetingly that he could pull the words back.

Richard's eye narrowed suspiciously and he pulled his blanket up higher on his chest. "I'm tired. Are you done?"

"I'm done," Sam managed to get out. Before he blew everything he darted for the door and headed down the hallway. In the distance he could hear Dean saying something, probably good-bye then the steady sound of his brother's footfalls.

The moment they burst out of the hospital Dean was laughing, collapsing against his brother's side. "Jesus _Christ_ that can't be real," he said between deep breaths, his mind finally supplying the mental image of a tornado of Christmas wrapping, ornaments and decorations yelling _fuck Santa_. "Was he on something?"

Barely able to breathe Sam nodded. He'd never heard anything that was more frightening and hilarious at the same time. While part of Sam's brain was trying to remind himself that a man had been murdered another part of his brain couldn't get past the image of attacking Christmas wrapping.

"Shit," Dean steadied them both before they could slip on a patch of ice on the sidewalk then shook his head. "Where do we even begin researching this thing? The Wal-Mart Christmas section?"

Laughing again, Sam shoved hard at Dean's shoulder. "One thing..." he gasped in some much-needed oxygen. "You were right about the Grinch. You're not right a lot, you should be happy."

"Oh shut the fuck up." Dean elbowed Sam but he was still grinning. The smile faded slightly when he thought about their time in the hospital room. Turning, Dean pinned Sam against the car and tugged on his tie, slipping it between his fingers. "You got pretty intense in there, before things got crazy."

The tone of Dean's voice was _entirely_ to blame for that way heat rushed through Sam's body. Before he could speak he had to clear his throat. "I...was uh. I was bad cop."

Dean laughed softly and nodded, smirking up at the flush on his brother's cheeks. "It was hot. Didn't think you had it in you to be bad cop."

Sam couldn't help the way his hips pressed forward, the way his body arched off the car slightly. He barely resisted making a crack about being _bad_. "Thought you liked me on my knees, beggin'."

"Nothing wrong with shakin' up the routine." Dean leaned forward and pressed his lips to the edge of Sam's ear, flicking his tongue over the curved flesh. "You sayin' you don't want me on my knees, beggin' for once?"

Lost somewhere between the sensation of Dean's moist breath and the image of his brother on his knees - Sam felt his legs weaken slightly. "I'll take you any way I can get you."

"Yeah but how do you _want_ me?" Dean knew they were in the parking lot, somewhat secluded but still easily visible. Still he slipped his hand between their bodies and cupped Sam's hardening cock, rubbing with his palm. "You wanna fuck my mouth? I'll let you be bad cop with me." He laughed breathy against Sam's ear, sucking just under the lobe a moment later.

Sam's knees went weak and useless for a few moments and he slid down the side of the car a little. His hand curled hard into the front of Dean's shirt, body lying back against the cool metal of the car's fender. "Yeah, I- yeah."

"I thought so," Dean murmured and kissed his way along Sam's neck. His palm rubbed a little harder over Sam's crotch and he nipped at his brother's skin. "So, should we go home then? Or you wanna hit up the library?"

Sam couldn't help the slight upward curl to his lips at the word _home_. He nodded again and arched his back off the car, pressing hard into Dean's hand for a few delicious moments. "Home," he rasped softly.

"The apartment," Dean murmured, frowning for just a moment at the way Sam moaned out _home_. "Come on," he stepped back and turned, grabbing the driver's side door and tugging it open. Whatever, he could deal with calling it home. For now.

Not knowing quite where to start, Sam stood in front of the lop-sided Christmas tree and stared. He scratched his head then leaned forward and turned the pot slightly so the tree was leaning back against the wall. Satisfied that it would not come crashing down he picked up a box of ornaments and flipped the lid off.

They were just plain tree balls, dark blue and shiny. Laying the box on the table he picked up a couple of ornaments and space them carefully on the tree.   
Oddly enough, the light from the overhead lamp was making the ornaments sparkle and it made Sam grin. Might as well get into the Christmas spirit while they were actually staying somewhere for more than one night. He hung another two ornaments and then frowned slightly and leaned down to adjust he tree again.

Seeing Sam hanging ornaments from the tree made Dean stop and stare. He'd just finished cleaning up the kitchen and was intending to bitch at his brother about how unfair it was to cook the dinner _and_ do the dishes, when his eyes caught sight of the man. They didn't really do trees as kids, and the few times they did they had made ornaments out of paper cut into snowflake shapes. This was different, very different.

Dean was moving before he really thought about it and he pressed up against Sam's back, sliding his arms around Sam’s middle. There wasn't really much to say, Dean wasn't the type to get all emotional or whatever, but the entire thing was making him think. Did Sam miss having something like this? Did he want this? "Sam," Dean whispered, brushing Sam's hair to the side so his lips could press to the back of his brother's neck.

Without even thinking, Sam took a deep breath and leaned back against his brother's firm chest. He smiled and hung another ornament on the tree. "Mmhm?"

Dean wanted to laugh at himself, at the way he swayed them slightly back and forth. He knew that struggling with words that should be simple meant something about his person but he wasn't willing to give it too much thought. "Did you have this with Jess?" He asked quietly, though it wasn't really what he wanted to know.

"Have... what? Trees and stuff? Nah. Never did. Didn't seem right 'cause, well, didn't seem right." Sam's arms folded over Dean's and he sighed happily. He loved these moments when Dean was gentle and sweet, let his guard down a little.

"No?" Dean wondered what didn't seem right about it but he was pretty sure he had a good idea. It wouldn't have ever felt right if he'd celebrated Christmas without Sam either, no matter how small their celebrations might be. "You like this?" It was half a question, half a statement, because he could practically feel Sam glowing in his arms.

"With you? Yeah," Sam answered quietly. "My only good Holidays were with you - even when we did really stupid shit." Laughing softly, Sam held on a little tighter, hoping to keep Dean there a little longer. "Maybe sometimes - we could stop for a few days someplace. Long enough to unpack a bag and make a real dinner." Letting his head fall back he turned to kiss his brother's cheek.

Ever since this thing with Sam started Dean had been bouncing between over protective and uncertain. Sometimes he thought they should just end it, that it was fucked up and would only make things worse later. Other times he wanted to stop hunting, because with Sam as his lover and his brother it was hard not to demand he sit out of the fights to be safe. Dean wasn't used to caring about anything _this_ much. "Yeah, maybe sometimes," he said quietly, closing his eyes against the pressing thoughts.

"You like it? Even a little?" Sam swayed with Dean, closing his eyes and soaking up the warmth of his brother's body.

"God Sam, I'm not heartless." Dean huffed and squeezed Sam against his body. "It's not like I don't care." Dean pressed his lips back to Sam's neck because sometimes it was easier to go along with the physical things.

"I didn't mean that." Sam felt the moment slipping away from him and frowned. "I just know. You had it different from me. God." Sam turned slowly in his brother's arms and draped his arms over Dean's shoulders. "I like it, I can't help it. Call me whatever you want. I like the idea of having Christmas with _you_." Smiling, he ducked down and caught Dean's mouth in a quick kiss.

Dean liked it more than a little but he just chased Sam's lips instead of telling him. His brother would figure it out, no one knew him like Sam did. His fingers pressed against Sam's scalp and held him in the kiss for several long minutes. When he pulled back he smiled at his brother with none of the sarcasm and snark he usually put into the gesture. "I like it Sam." he murmured, shaking his head slightly.

Sam's smile grew into a full on grin and he leaned away from his brother to snag an ornament with his finger. "Here, hang it."

Moment gone, Dean rolled his eyes and snorted a laugh. "I don't like it _that_ much." But he took the ornament from Sam and placed it on the tree, not caring if it was too close to the others or whatever.

Laughing, Sam shoved at Dean with his hip and picked up a bag of tinsel. No matter what Dean said now he couldn't take away the warmth that had wrapped itself around Sam's heart. "Whatever, Dude. You'll be in the spirit again later when I put presents under the tree."

"I'm not _five_ Sam, presents don't get me all riled up." Though Dean had to admit he was kind of looking forward to that. He needed to make a trip to the mall or something, as soon as he figured out what Sam would want.

Grabbing a handful of the tinsel, Dean reached out to drop it on the tree then changed his mind and stretched out, tossing the silvery stands over his brother's head.

Frowning over his smile, Sam reached down and picked up a couple of the candy canes he had talked his way into. The Elf at the store was hitting on him and she seemed more than happy to give him candy canes even if Sam did have to get rid of her phone number. Standing back like he was perusing a work of art, Sam flipped the tinsel back like long hair then hooked one candy cane over the collar of Dean's shirt and the other over the front pocket on his jeans. "Perfect," he said and then burst out laughing.

"You're hilarious," Dean said flatly and rolled his eyes once more. He did that so often with Sam it was a miracle he hadn't done permanent damage. Dean pulled the candy canes off and tried to toss everything back onto the tree. He stared for a moment before looking at Sam and frowning. "We didn't get lights. Think the Grinch will come if we don't have them?"

"I could go get some," Sam said _far_ too quickly. He'd been thinking about lights but wondered if it would push Dean over the edge. "I mean, you know, not that I thought about lights. But now that you mention it." Pressing his lips together Sam fiddled with another ornament.

"Yeah okay. You go get some; I'll stay here with my shot gun. Though I don’t think it'll affect tornados." Dean shrugged and turned to head back into the kitchen, remembering a moment later their lack of cable. "Fuck, no TV."

"I could get a zombie movie or something - oh - _Black Christmas_ and we could watch it on the laptop. While we wait for the Grinch," Sam added as an afterthought. He wondered if Dean found it amusing that they had just settled into referring to their target as _Grinch_.

"Okay, get the original if you can find it. If not I'll deal with the remake. Though the incest in it grosses me out." Dean somehow managed to keep a straight face as he spoke which he thought was kind of a miracle really. "Get some chocolate too."

"Jackass." But the smile on Sam's face wasn't fading as he looked around for his jacket. Patting his pocket he checked for his wallet and picked up the car keys off the table. "Don't get in trouble while I'm gone."

"If the Grinch comes while you're gone I'll try and get some pictures," Dean called over his shoulder as he slumped down onto the couch. He hoped the Grinch didn't come because he had no idea how to kill it. "Bye Sammy!" He added a moment later, laughing softly, "Don't give all our money to the bell ringers."

Grinning, Sam headed out.


	2. Chapter 2

Shortly after Sam left Dean decided not having cable was the crappiest thing in the entire world and the only other way to waste time was to take a shower. The shower spray was full and the water was hot and Dean felt like he could spend hours in there. Motel showers were never this good and yeah, Sam was probably right, every now and then they should stop in a place and enjoy not doing anything for a while.

He stayed in the shower until his skin wrinkled and the water started getting cold. It wasn't until he'd turned the water off and was about dry off and step into his boxers that he heard the loud scream. In a flash Dean jumped into his sweatpants, bypassing the boxers and shirt and running out of the bathroom.

His gun was on the table and he wasn't sure it would do any good but it was the only option he had. Throwing the door wide, Dean took off down the hall in the direction of the noise and kicked the door open. He didn't even think what it must look like for a still wet guy wearing only sweatpants and breaking into the apartment with a handgun.

Dean ducked just in time to miss the Christmas tree flying across the room and smashing into the wall. The woman screaming was across the room, hiding with her baby clutched in her arm behind her husband. The presents were spiraling in the air, bows and ribbons being torn off and pelted at the family like little Christmas missiles.

"Jesus Christ," Dean swore, ducking once more as the tree went flying the opposite way and crashed through the window. There was really nothing to shoot but he waved his gun around anyway, looking for any sort of apparition he might be able to scare off for a while.

Forcing himself forward, Dean closed his eyes against the assault of tinsel and ornaments then turned his head to the side, looking at the family. "Get the hell out of here, I'll distract it!"

The family didn't waste any time in following his order and Dean spread his arms wide, waving them from side to side. "Yo, Mr. Grinch, if you're so badass why don't you show yourself?"

You might think that a lifetime of doing this - hunting things - would teach him to not antagonize the thing he was trying to kill but you would be wrong. Dean often found taunts to be a good way to distract an enemy.

All that happened this time however was a large blue ribbon getting wrapped around his head and over his mouth. Dean groaned and reached for the thing, finding himself in the middle of flying bows and ribbons and torn wrapping paper. At one point Dean was fairly certain he got smacked in the forehead by a stuffed Winnie the Pooh and really this was just getting ridiculous.

Then the ribbons were weaving around his arms, through his legs, and before Dean even realized what was happening he was bound and falling to the floor, a series of glass ornaments smashing against his head.

All at once everything stopped, the wrappings and gifts falling on top of his tied up body, and Dean tried not to think about how _stupid_ this all was. He was going to kill Sam for dragging him on this case.

When Sam arrived back at the apartment building he was slightly confused by the fact that their door was standing wide open. A small crowd had gathered in front of the neighbors door and then he saw the top of a Christmas tree poking _through_ the front window of their apartment.

Swearing under his breath Sam screeched to a halt in their parking spot and ran over. "Hey! Everyone okay?" He looked around for his brother and then saw a pair of bare feet around the door frame that looked suspiciously like Dean's. Fear tightened in a band across Sam's chest and he darted forward without waiting for anyone to answer him.

There was nothing that would have prepared him for what awaited.

Shirtless and bound up like ... well ... like a Christmas present, Dean was lying on his back staring up at Sam with furious eyes. He would have burst out laughing but for the blood that was trickling down Dean's temple and cheek. "Jesus _Christ_."

Dropping to his knees Sam pulled up his pant leg and unsheathed his knife so he could cut the ribbon that was around Dean's face. Trying to keep a straight face, Sam pulled the knotted ribbon off Dean's forehead. "What did you do?"

"What did _I_ do?" Dean growled and shook free of the rest of the ribbon, climbing up to his feet and shooting a glare over at the people who had been gathered outside but didn't see fit to help him. "The fucking Christmas tree was flying everywhere and it was a god damn _tornado_ Sam. There were all these bows and ribbons and _Jesus Christ_." Dean shoved hard past the people and headed down to their own apartment, so irritated he was ready to punch anyone who looked at him wrong.

Lips a thin line, jaw twitching, Sam took a few deep breaths and followed his brother. He was trying desperately to keep it together; he'd seen how pissed off Dean was and certainly didn't want to suffer all night.

He took a few moments outside to talk to the neighbors. The woman with the screaming baby asked Sam to pass on her thanks to Dean; he assured her he would in exchange for her agreeing not to call the police. No one seemed to have difficult time believing that the police wouldn't take them seriously. An attacking Christmas tree?

Sam grabbed the shopping bags out of the car and headed inside, kicking the door shut behind him. Dean was pacing back and forth. "Dean, you okay?"

"No, Sam, I'm not fucking okay," Dean snapped, glaring at his brother for a moment before turning and heading for the bathroom. He stared at his reflection in the mirror and scowled, grabbing a rag and wetting it.

As he cleaned the blood off himself and leaned out of the bathroom, yelling so his brother could hear. "There was nothing, Sam. No ghost, nothing to shoot or stop or what the fuck ever. And this thing was smart; it knew what it was doing."

The cuts continued to bleed and Dean frowned, holding the rag up to his head. He hoped it didn't scar because there was no fucking way he was telling people how he got them.

Sliding into the bathroom beside his brother, Sam took the cloth. Dean frowned at him and looked like he was going to argue then folded his arms across his chest. Hopping up on the counter, Sam tugged Dean closer and peered at the wounds. "You think there's glass in them," he asked as he patted the blood away.

"Probably, the stupid ass ornaments just shattered on my skin." Dean clenched his jaw and stood in place, trying not to step out of Sam's grip. He knew his brother was trying to help, but he also knew his brother was trying _not_ to laugh. "I was getting out of the shower," he muttered, explaining why he was wearing only sweats.

"And then the Christmas tree attacked you?" Sam cleared his throat and hooked his legs around Dean's to stop him moving. Reaching behind him he snatched up some tweezers and leaned the heel of his hand against Dean's cheek to steady it. "Hold still."

"I will fucking kick your ass you realize this right?" Dean said through clenched teeth, hands gripping Sam's thighs tightly. "I got out of the shower, and I heard screaming. What the hell would you have done?" As far as Dean was concerned, Sam should be treating him a whole lot nicer considering the crap he just went through.

"You got decked," Sam murmured, "by boughs of hol-"

"Fuck you Sam," Dean snapped and pushed out of Sam's grip. "This is all your damn fault." He grabbed the rag from Sam and turned, heading out of the bathroom and over to the closet to tug out their duffel bags.

"Dean, come _on_. It's Christmas and you were adorable, all wrapped up like a perfect present for me." Sam headed straight over to his brother. "What you doing with the bags?"

Rolling his eyes Dean tugged out a package of Band-Aids and held them up, shaking them at his brother before throwing the bag on the bed. "We're screwed if that thing comes back, so I'd say you better start thinking up logical ways to kill the damn thing." He brushed past his brother, once more heading for the bathroom to clean up the cuts.

Sighing, Sam trailed along behind his brother. "Okay, enough with the attitude, Dean. Let me clean the damn cuts and I'll stop being a smart ass." Sam leaned against the door frame at stared at the tight muscles in his brother's shoulders. "Okay?"

"I've got it under control," Dean said flatly, once more wetting the rag and leaning toward the mirror to peer at the cuts. He didn't care if he was having an _attitude_. There was more to it than that. If that thing came back it could take both him and Sam down and he wouldn't know how to stop it. _That_ bothered Dean.

"Oh fuck off." Sam shoved Dean aside and hopped back up on the counter again. "I'm doing it; I wanna make sure I got all the glass out. He picked up the tweezers and held his hands out waiting for Dean to step closer. "C'mon. We can figure this out. Let me patch you up."

Sighing, mainly because he hated admitting any sort of defeat, Dean stepped toward Sam not taking his hand. He leaned against the counter and turned his gaze away, focusing on opening the Band-Aids instead.

Sam ran hot water over the cloth then turned back to face Dean. Wiping the cloth slowly he cleaned up some of the blood and leaned in to check how clean the cuts were. "So. Did you feel anything? Cold? Maybe it's some kind of messed up spirit."

Truthfully Dean hadn't been paying attention to anything like that; it had been all about saving the family, so he took a few moments to consider. "Cold, yeah. If I had to venture a guess I'd say spirit or something. Way the things moved," Dean's voice was a low mutter, the words half mumbled.

"No substance to it, like no limbs, or anything solid?" Sam searched around for the tweezers again and picked another small piece of glass out of one of the cuts.

"Don't you think I would have noticed any moment of it being corporal?" Dean hissed as the tweezers dug into the cut. "Didn't even get a set of greedy ghost eyes looking my way. Ow- fuck Sam not so hard."

Setting the tweezers down, Sam peered closer again and then turned to get some disinfectant. He poured some on the cloth and pressed it to Dean's forehead. "Okay, so spirit it is. Pretty pissy fucker, a poltergeist? You think?"

There was already a bruise forming down Dean's cheek and Sam cupped both his hands under his brother's jaw to make sure there were no bones broken anywhere.

Blowing out a low breath, Dean finally settled his gaze on Sam and reached out, gripping his sides. "Poltergeist, probably." He didn't want to think about Sam being attacked by that thing but his mind went there almost automatically. If it had been the other way around? And Sam was the one rushing off in just sweats to save the people next store, things could have gone just as bad. "Guess it must be research time."

"Yeah, I could do it on-line. Can probably hack into the Library and maybe send an email to Bobby." Sam slid a hand back through Dean's hair and he leaned forward to press a tender kiss to his brother's wounded forehead. "I got your movie."

"Thanks." Dean pulled his hands back and sighed, stepping away from Sam. "Let's not put up the lights until we know for sure what this thing is. The sooner we get rid of it the better. Got a hunch this is more complicated than a salt and burn."

Sam jumped down off the counter and followed Dean. "No lights? But they might help get it in here, don't you think? 'Cause we need the Grinch to come in here."

"We need it to come in here when we know how to deal with it," Dean said without stopping, heading for the tree in the living room. He started to pull the ornaments from the tree and set them on the table, looking up at his brother's wide eyes. "Relax, Cindy Loo, just making them safer."

Sam's lips twitched into a smile. "You gonna take the ornaments back to your shop and fix them up there and then bring them back here?" Sam might have watched a lot of Christmas cartoons on TV.

"Yeah so get your ass back in bed and I'm not giving you a cup of milk." Dean rolled his eyes and carried the ornaments into the kitchen. It was crazy but those stupid little balls could do a lot of damage. So he tugged out the roll of tape Sam had gotten to wrap presents and began the complicated process of covering each bulb in tape.

That was more than enough for Sam's self-control. Before he could even comment on the fact that Dean was taping up ornaments Sam was laughing so hard his stomach ached. The entire thing was ridiculous; Dean being attacked by a Christmas tree, beat up by ornaments - and now the safety measures.

Dean had known that Sam was going to lose it at some point; it didn't make him any less pleased to hear the waves of laughter echoing around him. Ignoring his brother, Dean finished taping up the ornaments and carried them back over to the tree. Still ignoring his brother, Dean hung all the ornaments back up then turned to head to the bedroom, bitterly hoping his brother choked on his own spit or something.

The more Dean ignored Sam, the harder he found it was to control himself. It was probably ten minutes before he could breathe properly and another five before he dared follow Dean down the hall. Leaning against the bedroom door frame he smiled as he watched Dean getting undressed. "Going to bed?"

"Fuck off," Dean said quietly, nowhere near in the mood to play this game anymore. There was nothing he hated more than getting his ass handed to him, doing it to save a family and getting only humiliation in return. It was enough to make Dean annoyed for a day at least. Pulling on a pair of clean boxers, Dean kept his back to Sam as he tugged at the blanket.

Pressing his lips together, Sam shifted a little. His didn't feel so much like laughing when Dean was pissed at him. Padding over to the bed, Sam slotted his body in behind Dean's and pressed hard against him. "Still love me?"

"I'm not in the mood Sam, just go research or something." Dean shifted away from his brother and tugged the blanket further up his body, full intent on sleeping until Christmas was _over_.

"Want me to get the laptop and _Black_ Christmas? It's got lots of sorority girls dying in it. Painful deaths and they hate Christmas." Sam shifted closer again, slipping his hand over the blanket and cuddling up against his brother.

"Jesus, Sam, what part of not in the mood don't you get." Dean flipped over and turned to Sam, his eyes narrowing. "I could have fucking died, Sam. I know it's hilarious now but if that thing had decided to it could have killed me just like that other guy and I wouldn't have been able to stop it. So when you're done laughing at me, maybe you can open your eyes and see this damn case you brought us too is worse than a lot we've been on lately."

Sam's stomach twisted up in a tight knot as he moved back to the edge of the bed. "I didn't - I mean, there's no way something like that would get you, hurt you. You're the best hunter I know." Rolling away, Sam dropped his feet to the floor and headed toward the door. "I'm sorry, Dean. I didn't - not for _one_ second think I was gonna lose you to something like that." Dropping his gaze to the floor, Sam sighed and ran his hand through his hair. "I'll... keep watch by the tree."

"Fine." Dean turned away from the door and pulled the blanket up higher, suddenly not nearly as tired as he was wide awake. _Of course_. Because now he felt bad for snapping at his brother, sometimes caring so much was a real pain in his ass.

"For the record, I don't ever want to lose you. I'd die." Sam turned and walked out into the living room and headed over to the lights that were on the table still. Shoving the box aside he sank down onto one of the chairs and leaned hard on the table.

Dean knew Sam wasn't in bed beside him because there was the distinct lack of the six foot four heater that was normally pressed up against him or draped over him. His heart sank and Dean would never admit to him but it _hurt_ that Sam hadn't ever come to get in bed with him. Rolling over, Dean frowned at the made side of the bed before shaking his head and standing, slipping on a pair of sweatpants and a shirt.

Walking down the hall, Dean stopped at the sight of Sam asleep with his head pillowed on his arms at the kitchen table, laptop still open at his side. So now Dean felt bad because Sam hadn't come to bed and guilty because he'd basically forced his brother to research all night. Awesome.

Crossing the room, Dean started up a pot of coffee before walking back over to Sam, squeezing his arm. "Sam? Wake up."

Jerking up from the table, Sam whipped his head around as he squinted in the light that was streaming through the window. "God, sorry. I - I just closed my eyes for a minute." Sam rubbed his hand down his face and groaned when he tried to sit up straighter. He hadn't meant to stay there all night but once his mind had started spinning through everything he just couldn't settle down.

"It's okay. You want to go lay down in bed for a while? I can take over the researching." Dean reached out to tilt Sam's notebook toward him, scanning over the notes Sam had gathered about the area.

"Think I figured most of it out." Sam stifled a yawn and leaned back in his chair. "There was a guy here, _God_ It took forever to find out. One of those things that gets covered up because it's bad publicity and shit. Anyway. This guy comes home from a tour of duty in Iraq to spend time with his family and finds them murdered."

Sam clicked a few times on his laptop and opened an image. It showed a macabre scene in a living room very similar to the one they were sitting in. What wasn't immediately clear from the photograph was that there was a dead woman and a dead child - their bodies mutilated beyond recognition.

"When he came home, Private Lawrence found his entire family slaughtered. He shot himself, Dean." Sam rubbed at his face again, feeling the sadness from the night before and knowing that Dean would be feeling it to. ("Willing to bet he's the one doing this?"

"Jesus," Dean whispered and shook his head, not even able to picture what the agony was like that Private Lawrence felt. "Yeah, definitely sounds like it could have been him. Any idea where he might be buried?" Dean stood and headed for the kitchen, pouring both himself and Sam a cup of coffee.

"No, couldn't find the records online - then … well, then I must have fallen asleep. Sorry." Sam's neck and back ached and his eyes felt like they were full of grit. Rolling his shoulders a few times he pushed the laptop back. "Just need to find the local records clerk and we can figure it out."

"Okay, well hopefully he's actually buried somewhere." Dean wasn't looking forward to digging the winter frozen dirt but he could get over it if it meant the rest of the families in this building being safe. "I can go do the records thing, find where he is, if you want to get some sleep or whatever."

"I'm okay. Just need a quick shower." Sam's eyes lingered along his brother's forehead. "How's your face? Can I see?" He reached out for Dean and but dropped his hand quickly.

"Does it look bad?" Dean touched one of the Band-Aids on his forehead and frowned then shrugged. "I'm fine. Want some coffee?" He slid a mug over to Sam, shifting against the uncomfortable weight pressing in on them. That's what he got for being a dick and stupidly offended.

Sam looked down at the brown liquid still swirling in his mug. "You could let me take care of you sometimes," he said softly.

"You did, you pulled the glass out of the cuts last night." Dean frowned and reached for his own mug, slowly sipping from it. "Look we don't have to do this. It's fine, it's cool, sorry for being an ass. Let's just get on with things."

"Fine. I think I'll take that sleep then if you don't need me. So - have fun." Pushing his chair back a little too fast, Sam felt it knock into the wall. He snapped his laptop closed and shrugged out of his jacket. The idea of climbing into bed was a lot more appealing that lining up at some stupid civil service office to find records with someone who didn't seem to really care if he were there or not. As he moved around the table he slid a paper across in front of Dean. "Full name, date of birth and all that on there. See you later."

Sam's heart was thudding dully and he felt like his head was going to explode as he turned and headed down the hallway.

Groaning, Dean rubbed a hand down his face then slowly stood, considering options before walking down the hall. He stopped just inside the room, watching Sam staring down at the shirt he'd just pulled off. "What do you want Sam? You just- last night you- look, I said sorry, what else do you need from me?"

"Nothin'," Sam answered softly. "I just forget sometimes, that ... that we're not like other people. That _you're_ different. It's okay, I'm just tired. Spent half the night worrying 'bout something killin' you." Wry smile on his face, Sam threw his shirt onto the end of the bed and unbuckled his belt.

"What does that mean? That I'm different?" Dean braced himself, not sure he really wanted to know what Sam really thought of him. Of course things were spiraling from good to shit between them, like usual, Dean wasn't sure why he was surprised.

" _We're_ different," Sam emphasized. Stepping out of his jeans he pulled back the quilt and slid under it. The mattress felt like heaven compared to sleeping on the damn chair. "We're hunters, not some happy couple having their first real Christmas together. You know me, Dean. You always say how I get caught up in shit. I'll get over it."

Blinking a few times, Dean looked down at his feet, not certain what to say. It wasn't like he could deny that, they were hunters and more often than not they weren't the happy couple. Dean thought they were good though, he wasn't always the best at relationship but he thought he was making Sam happy. "Okay," he said quietly and cross to the drawers with his clothes inside, feeling weirdly numb as he pulled out some jeans and a t-shirt.

Rolling to face the wall, Sam sighed. "Sometimes, I feel like you don't really need me."

"What?" Dean straightened up, a cold chill rushing through. He turned toward the bed and stared at the lump that was his brother. "Are you fucking crazy? Why the hell would you even think that Sam?"

"Because you wouldn't even let me look at those stupid cuts. Because you're the one who thinks about how serious things are. Because you don't fall asleep when you're supposed to be keeping an eye on things." Sam closed his eyes and nestled down further in the bed then reached out and snatched Dean's pillow closer.

"Really? Sam? God, I can't believe you would even think that way. You- fuck, you know I don't know how to say this shit, I suck at it. Maybe it doesn't seem like it but I fucking always need you, how is that not obvious?" Dean scowled and dropped his clean clothes. He'd maybe been waiting for this moment between them.

Blinking his eyes open, Sam found himself staring at the plain white apartment wall. "Okay," he said quietly. There was nothing else that Sam could really say. He was exhausted and regretting the way he'd laughed at his brother the night before. "Sorry I laughed at ya last night. I should have taken it more seriously. Hey... swing back here if you find the guy's burial plot and I'll help with the salt and burn."

Things weren't okay. Dean could feel it, just like he'd always been able to read Sam. It made him feel like everything in his body was tightening and the next breath felt painful. This fucking _sucked_. "Right." He half gasped the word and tugged off his shirt, pulling on a different one for no real reason but stalling, giving him time to learn to breathe again.

"Love you," Sam said softly. His fingers curled tightly into the quilt and he squeezed his eyes tighter.

"Alright enough of this bullshit," Dean finally snapped and crossed the room in several quick strides. Yanking the blanket back Dean grasped Sam on either side of the jaw and dragged him up, crushing their lips together in a hard kiss that made their teeth click.

Before Sam could react he was pulling back, dropping his forehead to Sam's. "I was hurt you laugh, and hurt you weren't in bed this morning, and it's stupid and lame but I _needed_ you like I do every minute of every day, okay? I love you even though you laughed at me like an asshole, mostly because I probably would have laughed too. Just- we could be the happy couple, I could make you happy." Dean trailed off as the words came to a sudden end and he dropped his hands, blinking at Sam. "Sorry."

It took Sam a few moments to work through everything Dean had said; the words had come out kind of fast and he wasn't used to Dean saying all that much at once. Smiling slightly, Sam slid his hand over Dean's thigh. "I wanted to be in here, was gonna sneak back in after you fell asleep but you'd gotten me all freaked out about something happening. So I sat there ... and then I fell asleep." Once upon a time Sam was sure he'd been able to make a lot more sense when he spoke to people.

"Yeah well, don't." Dean ran his hands along Sam's chest, meeting his eyes after a moment. "I might not need you to look after me Sam, but I really do need you. You have to believe that okay? And, you know, we could be like other couples. What do they do? Kiss under mistletoe? Bake cookies? We could bake cookies." Dean smiled a little wider, pleased to see the smile growing on Sam's lips.

As amusing as baking cookies sounded, Sam was still shaking his head. A warm smile had settled on his lips. "We don't have to do that stuff. We can stick to killing supernatural shit. And turkey. You can cook me a turkey. And - maybe say things like this more than once a year." They were still kind of pressed close together and Sam snaked his arm around Dean's neck to pull him down for a kiss that was the complete opposite of the first one; it was gentle and sweet, long and soft.

Crawling over Sam's body was only natural as the man sank back into the pillow. He figured they both deserved it, just to enjoy each other's lips for a while. His hand slid back into Sam's hair and as his lips began to tingle he pulled back from the kiss, laughing softly. "Was that a couple fight and not a brother fight?"

Laughter caught Sam by surprise and he grinned up at his brother. "Definitely a couple's fight. If it was a brother fight I would have just kicked your ass. Head lock or somethin'." Dean's eyes were sparkling again and that just made Sam's chest ache in a much better way.

Cinching his arms tight around Dean's waist, Sam shifted until Dean was spread out over him. "Can you stay just till I fall asleep?"

"Yeah." Dean nodded slowly, resisting the urge to point out to Sam that if anyone's ass was getting kicked it would be Sam's. Some things were just better to let slide. He pressed his lips to Sam's neck and smiled softly, feeling the steady thud of Sam's pulse quicken when he rolled his body forward slightly. "You sore?"

"I'm a little sore, I'm okay though." And, his skin was on fire just from that soft kiss. Dean was like the best kind of pain-killer, instant and all-consuming. Sam's mind settled finally, his thoughts ceasing their unending whirl.

Each time Dean exhaled, the warmth of his breath sent a slight shiver down Sam's body. "You make me a little crazy," Sam said as he nuzzled into his brother's hair.

"Maybe you just come a little crazy," Dean suggested with a faint smirk then pulled back, staring down at Sam. "Want me to help you fall asleep?"

"Not gonna knock me out or anything are ya?" Sam grinned.

"Not literally," Dean laughed, rolling his hips forward once more with purpose. "Could get you some meds if you want though."

As usual, Dean's body pressed so close was heating up _Sam's_ body from the inside out. Sam slid his hands down his brother's back, curling his fingers into the tight muscle of the man's ass. "Have I ever told you that you have a great ass?"

"I don't think you've mentioned it," Dean laughed softly and kissed his way along Sam's jaw. "Probably not as good as yours," Dean pointed out thickly, digging his teeth for a moment into Sam's neck and drawing back.

Rocking his body up, Sam hooked a leg over his brother's and pressed their bodies flush together. "And lips. You have great lips."

"I do remember you saying that," Dean murmured, kissing his way back up until his lips could slide against Sam's. He'd heard a lot about make up sex but he'd never gotten to experience it, always leaving before there could ever be fights worth making up from. "We're good now yeah?" Dean asked against Sam's mouth, his fingers slipping under Sam's boxers to brush over his hipbone.

"We're good." The tingle from their lips brushing together made Sam smile. "Real good. You know, as long as that Grinch doesn't' choose _now_ to show up." The heat from Dean's body was a little intoxicating; Sam needed it like he needed air.

"Or in a few minutes when I'm fucking you," Dean murmured, his lips pulling up in a slow smile. "That would be really unfortunate timing." He officially decided that Sam was wearing too much clothing - they both were - and he lifted himself off his brother to push the material off with his hand.

"Jesus," Sam hissed. His cock twitched and throbbed when Dean said shit like that; his hips rocked up unconsciously. As his boxers dragged down over his hips, his thighs, Sam could feel his skin coming alive.

"I've heard make up sex is the best." Dean rolled to the side to toss Sam's boxers off then pulled at his own clothing, relieved to be free of the material even if sweats weren't really confining. He rolled back on top of Sam and their bodies slid together, pulling a moan from Dean. "I love your abs," he added, thinking it wouldn't hurt to let Sam in on some of the things Dean appreciated about him. "And your thighs."

"My thighs huh?" Sam let out a deep laugh and felt Dean tremble slightly. As soon as Dean was pressed back against him, Sam moaned and his smiled faded. "Shut up and fuck me," he murmured.

"God," Dean groaned, too caught up in Sam's words for a moment to do much of anything. Then he was reaching out to the nightstand, snagging the bottle of lube and condom and turning back to Sam. "Won't even make you beg for it this time," Dean murmured, slicking his fingers swiftly and sitting back between Sam's spread legs.

His brother opened his mouth to say something and Dean pressed forward, sliding two fingers at once, deep within the man. This was one of his favorite parts, driving Sam crazy as he stretched him open.

Crying out something that fell between Dean's name and a moan, Sam lifted up off the mattress. Lust shot through him, pinballing through his body and leaving him weak and gasping for air. "Jesus," he hissed. When he managed to get his eyes to open, Sam glared defiantly and shoved at the condom sending it flying off the bed. His eyes were locked with Dean's when his hips rocked back to take _more_.

"Sam," Dean rolled his eyes and shook his head. How many times had they had that argument? He'd lost count. Clean test or not, Dean thought there was no harm in being safe but Sam wasn't having it. He slid his third finger forward a moment later, dipping down to clamp his teeth over his brother's nipple and dragging up. Sam was tight and burning around his fingers and Dean rocked his cock against Sam's hip, already desperate to be buried deep within his brother.

The storm inside Sam's body reached a fevered pitch and he arched up off the bed. "Now, Jesus, Dean. Please..." His muscled clenched tight around his brother's fingers and they both moaned. Sam's hand slithered down between their bodies and curled around his brother's hard flesh. "I want you."

"Fuck, how are you so hot?" Dean muttered, shaking his head as he drew his fingers free and shifted between Sam's legs. When they first started this thing between them, Dean hadn't wanted to go all the way, like it was some sort of line he couldn't cross. But Sam had pushed and pushed and Dean had finally caved - because he wanted it - and because he always gave in to Sam.

He slid his hand down and knocked Sam's away with a groan then began stroking himself, pressing forward to crush his lips against his brothers. As his tongue slid forward he gathered Sam's legs up, drawing his ass onto his thighs and shoving hard forward, thrusting all the way inside his brother in one go.

Fighting the urge to claw at his brother's back, Sam fisted the quilt, clenching the soft material against his palms. "Fuck." He heaved in a breath and the sensation of Dean _filling_ him kind of ran through him like a fuse, sparking each nerve to life.

It was different, without the thin layer of latex between them, the heat of Dean's cock radiated out and Sam was sure he would just melt down into the bed underneath them. "Tell me," he whispered. A shudder wracked his body and he reached up to slide shaking hands down his brother's chest. "Tell me, how it feels."

Dean hadn't _not_ used a condom since he was fifteen and made one stupid mistake that thankfully didn't have any bad repercussions. This though, was entirely different, and Dean didn't pull out, just to savor the feeling. "Different," Dean murmured and blinked his eyes open to stare down at his brother. "Hotter, smoother, more."

Eyes fixing and locking on his brother's Dean drew back, waiting until Sam's lips parted before thrusting hard forward. It was a thousand times more intense and maybe this was the first time Dean really _felt_ the connection. Fuck, they were never going to use a condom again. It was better than ever.

Sam could see desire flushing Dean's cheeks, watched as his brother bit down _hard_ on his bottom lip. "Yes," Sam whispered. His body jolted again, hips pushing up to match each hard thrust of his brother's. There was never enough time for them, and all these stolen moment were so intense Sam wondered sometimes if he would just burn up from it.

"God Sam, could spend forever like this," Dean gasped through rough pants as he fucked hard into his brother. It never failed to surprise him that even with his long list of conquests, somehow Sam was still the best, absolutely better than any of the others. He gripped Sam's thighs and pulled him up higher, angling his hips down to drive each snap forward into his brother, aiming for that spot that would make Sam lose control. Dean forced his eyes to stay open because he loved to watch when Sam went crazy like that.

Sam was _just_ about to speak - and then his body was riding the crest of a wave of pleasure. Dean's cock slid deep inside him and something exploded to life. Writhing and twisting, Sam scraped his blunt nails down his brother's chest and cried out his brother's name. When he could see again, he blinked a few times, desire fogging his vision. "De..an."

A smirk tugged at Dean's lips and he dipped forward, crushing his lips to Sam's and wrapping his arms under the man's body. In one quick motion he rolled them, pushing Sam up so his brother was seated completely on him. Dean stared up at him and gripped his hips, pulling him up and thrusting up to meet the glide down. "Fuck," Dean swore softly, his nails digging into Sam's hipbones.

The room spun around Sam for a few long moments and he squeezed his eyes shut. All his attention narrowed down to his brother's thrusts, the heat of Dean's cock, and the smooth flesh under his fingernails. Rocking his hips, Sam fucked down on his brother _hard_. He wanted Dean to come, wanted to feel the heat of his brother's release. "You're mine, you... _fuck_ -" A loud moan took the rest of Sam's words away.

"Yours," Dean groaned and met Sam's rocking motions with deep thrusts, never getting as deep as he wanted to be. His hand slid over to curl around Sam's cock, stroking in time with their rapidly moving bodies. "All yours," Dean moaned his brother's name a moment later, heels digging into the mattress as his release drew nearer. He forced his eyes open only because watching Sam move over him, riding him with his head thrown back and his hips rocking constantly, was the hottest thing he'd ever seen. "Come on Sammy, so close."

Sam's heart stutter-stopped and he could feel his chest muscles tighten. The spark became fire and then a full on wave of pleasure slammed into Sam's body. His hips rocked haphazardly for a few moments then he came. His cock throbbed, aching as his come splattered up his brother's chest. _Christ_ , Sam loved to see Dean messed up like that. But that thought shot out of his mind quickly as he just found himself falling apart.

Eyes fixed on the pleasure coloring Sam's face in a deep flush, Dean stroked Sam through his release before his own slammed hard into him. His hips drove up hard and held with each pull of his orgasm, his eyes finally fluttering closed. The moment his mind stopped reeling he dragged Sam down, kissing him much softer and deeper than he'd originally intended.

Melting down onto his brother's body, Sam moaned into their kiss. Dean's lips were swollen and hot, slick and Sam could kiss him for days. He couldn't stop shaking and finally pulled back from the kiss to let out a small gasp. "Jesus," he whispered.

"I love you Sam," Dean murmured almost in a weird state of awe, like he hadn't before realized just how _much_ he did love his brother. Apparently this settling in one place for a bit and celebrating Christmas was bad for his deeply buried feminine side. "You know, more than just, you know."

Laughing, Sam sucked softly on the fevered flesh just below his brother's ear. "I know. Even when you don't say it." Sam knew it even when _Dean_ didn't know it.

"No, I don't think you do. Not the way, it just." Dean sighed and shook his head, laughing at himself. "Forget it. That was fucking amazing." His fingers slid down Sam's back, head turning to give Sam more room to kiss.

Sliding back a little Sam groaned as Dean slid free. "Dean? I know. I promise, okay?" His fingers slid up his brother's chest and curled round the side of his neck. "I do know."

"You know that I love you more than I should. That I'm - god, I don't know - in love with you? You get that?" Dean slid his hands down and massaged along Sam's ass, biting down on his lip uncertainly.

A smile worked its way onto Sam's mouth. "The thing about being the little brother is you get spoiled rotten. Dean. I've loved you since I was a teenager - been _in_ love with you. After the first time you- well, I've just always assumed you felt the same way I do." Sam pressed some kisses along Dean's bottom lip. "Sure as fuck doesn't hurt to hear you say it though."

"You'd like it if I said that kind of stuff more huh?" Dean tilted down to capture Sam's lips in a soft kiss and his heart fluttered softly. Alright, maybe it wasn't _horrible_ to feel like this. Pulling back from the kiss, Dean slid his hand back into Sam's hair. "Wouldn't you get sick of me if I was sentimental?"

Sam shrugged a shoulder. "Don't get sick of you really. But... don't change. I kinda like you the way you are. Got you all broke in." Lips twitching, Sam closed his eyes and turned into Dean's hand.

For a while Dean was quiet, holding Sam against his side as his mind turned over thoughts. When he spoke he was fairly certain Sam was already asleep, which might have been part of the reason he waited so long. "What if I wanted to change though? What if I wanted to be more like the perfect happy couple?"

When no answer came Dean smiled, albeit a little sadly and slowly shifted until he could climb out of bed. He'd let his brother sleep while he went and found out where the guy was buried. Then he'd come back and get Sam because he sure as hell wasn't going to dig up the grave all one his own.


	3. Chapter 3

Sometimes Dean marveled at how easy it was to find out information just by showing a fake badge. The clerk at the records hall was more than willing to guide him along, batting her eyelashes and stroking his arm far too many times. He put up with it as long it took to find out Private James Lawrence was buried at Sunny Grace Memorial in plot 36H.

The clerk, whose name Dean couldn't remember but it was one of those food ones like Candy or Cookie or Lollipop - whatever, leaned against the filing cabinet and squeezed her arms in front of her chest so her boobs perked up. "So Agent Page, has anyone ever told you that you have great lips?"

Dean couldn't help smirking at that and he clutched the scanned paper from the file, fixing his eyes on Cinnamon Roll - fuck it had to be a stupid name like that. "Yeah actually, my boyfriend."

The girl's expression visibly dimmed at that and she dropped her arms, her lip pouting out.   
"Really? You're gay? I never would have guessed that."

As he headed for the door Dean couldn't help rolling his eyes. After all, it was things like that that made people prejudice assholes. Dean never did understand why people had to classify others into groups and categories, gay or straight, rich or poor. It was really irritating. Which was likely why Dean stopped at the door and turned to her, forced smile on his face. "Only for my brother. Something about his ass I can't resist."

With that he turned and headed out to his car. He was fairly sure he might have thoroughly blown Sugar's - or Popsicle's or Tootsie Roll's - tiny little bimbo brain. Dean tried not think about the fact that he probably would have hooked up with her if Sam wasn't in the picture. Some details were best left not addressed.

Heading out to the car, Dean started back to the apartment building then his eyes caught the sign of a shop along the side of the road and he pulled quickly to the stop, staring out at it. Rolling his lips together, Dean climbed out of the car and headed into the shop.

"Can I help you sir?" The older man behind the counter asked, looking up from the book he was reading.

"Yeah, I'm looking for a present for my brother."

An hour and a half later Dean was back at the apartment building. He'd been to several touristy type stores, Wal-Mart, and the mall. Pulling the back door open, Dean stared in at the stack of presents already wrapped - courtesy of the Williamson Valley High School - and wondered if his brother was going to give him crap about buying so many things.

He couldn't help it if he got in the Christmas shopping mood. When he bought one present for his brother he couldn't help thinking of a few more things that Sam might like. And really, when was the last time Sam even got a birthday present?   
Since Dean was mostly to blame for that, he was making up for it now.

"I'm so sorry Hilary, let me know if you need anything more," a woman's voice was echoing from down the front hall and Dean straightened up, looking over toward the woman.

She was coming from the apartment where the father was found murdered. Dean had wanted to question them but Sam and he both agreed that pushing things with a woman who just lost her husband in such a bizarre way, this close to Christmas was a last resort type of thing.

The woman leaving though wasn't part of the family and Dean paused for a moment before pushing the back door open and stepping toward the lady. "Excuse me? Sorry for bugging you but I'm Agent Page from the FBI, I was wondering if I could ask you a few questions?"

She looked startled, staring at his badge for the brief moment he showed it before looking back up at him. "Yeah, I suppose, about anything specific?"

"It's about Nathan Dolan, you know his wife Hilary?" Dean smiled his most charming smile and he stepped a little closer, hoping she'd feel more like she was confessing to a friend and not a member of the law.

" _Oh_ ," the woman nodded and Dean saw the glint in her eyes. She was the type of woman that loved to gossip, he could see it all over her eager expression. Him being an FBI agent must have made her day. "I do know Hilary; poor girl has had such a rough few weeks. First her husband is murdered, than she finds out that he was- oh no, I shouldn't say."

Dean suppressed an eye roll and stepped closer, patting her arm. "It's okay, I'll keep it between you and me and if I do have to use it in my investigation I won't use your name." He paused, watching her expression fall slightly and forced his smile once more. "Unless I absolutely have too."

"Well, I suppose you are an FBI agent," she muttered then wet her lips, her hands rubbing almost greedily together. "A couple of days ago she found out he was having not one, but _two_ affairs, with two different women. And poor Hilary, here she is with a little baby and now she knows that her jerk of a husband was messing around with two different whores. My goodness that poor child."

The sound of something crashing had Dean looking up and he stepped away, holding his hand out to the woman. "Thank you, for the information. I gotta- just gotta go look into something."

Before she could say anymore he was hurrying down the hall and fumbling with the key to their apartment. The crashing had stopped but Dean had a bad feeling and he pushed the door open, hurrying inside.

In the middle of the living room sat Sam, wrapped up in long thing of ribbons he'd bought and left on the table. There were strands of Christmas lights around him as well and a handful of taped wrapped ornaments sitting in his lap. Dean lifted a hand and scratched along his jaw before closing the door behind him.

"Well, I bet you're glad I taped up the ornaments," he said as he shook his head. Any other occasion he would have laughed at his brother but since he was in the same position less than twenty four hours ago, Dean just felt sympathy for the wounded pride feeling that went along with it. "Really, Sam, best gift you could have ever gotten me."

Dean smiled softly at him as he knelt and picked the ornaments off his lap, setting them to the side then reaching up to unweave lights and ribbon from around Sam's head. As soon as his mouth was free, Dean spoke again. "You okay?"

"I might have some ribbon cuts on my ear. I was doing really well with the scissors until my hands got all tangled up." Tilting his head slightly, Sam looked up at his brother. "It's hard to snip at ribbons when they're flying around you."

Mostly, Sam was just glad that he wasn't going to have to sit on the floor any longer. It was a little humiliating - but he _had_ laughed at Dean so this was sort of like pay back.

"You tried fighting the thing with scissors?" Dean nearly lost it there, picture his brother snipping the ribbons flying through the air, but he swallowed it down and slowly nodded as he continued to unwind the man. "Right, well, I uh, suppose I see some logic to that."

"It worked at the start." Sam couldn't help smirking. "I thought," he chucked, "it was a good idea."

"Could have been worse. You could have attempted to use a gun." Dean laughed at that and finished unraveling his brother, helping him up to his feet. "The good news is, I found where he's buried. And I also learned why he only killed that Nathan guy."

Sam wriggled his hips back and forth to shake off the remains of the tinsel. "What? I thought maybe he just liked us." Rubbing at his ear Sam winced. "Am I bleeding?"

Stepping closer Dean reached out and tilted Sam's head to the side so he could peer up at his ear. "Just a little nick, nothing too bad. You need anything? Did he knock you around at all?"

"Spun me around. Thought I was gonna puke." Shaking his head slightly Sam smiled again. "So? Why? Why not kill me? Not that I'm complaining."

"Nathan was cheating on his wife. Apparently the Private wasn't too keen on someone squandering the family they did have. So, he's a ghost with a moral agenda, weird right?" Dean's chest felt a little tight but mostly because he was thinking of the damage that could have been done to Sam if the situation was different.

"Well, look on the bright side." Sam grinned at the look of mild confusion on Dean's face. "You know I'm not cheating," he teased as he pulled a bow out of his jacket pocket. He was pretty sure that he wouldn't be suggesting a Christmas case again in the future.

"Way to be positive." Dean clapped Sam on the shoulder then turned, heading for the bedroom to change out of his suit and into his digging clothes. "Come on Princess, I don't know about you but I'd rather not cozy up to the possibility that this thing might decide gays are next on the list of not so cool things."   
Poking tentatively at the wound on his ear Sam strolled down the hallway. "I'm not gay," he muttered.

"Right, right, my bad, because getting fucked by your brother is a sure sign you're straight." Dean laughed as he tugged a shirt on. "Whatever helps you sleep at night Sam."

Sam's lips were twitching as he fought off his smile. Flopping down on the bed he gazed up at Dean. "Maybe I'm just Dean sexual."

Dean paused for a moment and looked over at his brother than laughed, shaking his head. "Yeah, that's probably what it is. Looks like you've got the lucky task of being fucked only by me for the rest of your life. You're so blessed."

Stretching his arms up high above his head Sam moaned at the way his back popped. "Well, I guess I can put up with it. Where we going now? Digging?" Digging up graves was harder than most people thought; if they thought about it which Sam suspected they didn't.

"Digging." Dean nodded and stepped into the jeans with the hole just for digging. "Sooner we get this thing over with the sooner we can enjoy our Christmas vacation."

"Thought you wanted to take off as soon as we were done?" Sam sat up and tugged his clothes back into place, fussing with his hair for a few moments before giving up.

"I thought you wanted to stay and have a real Christmas." Dean turned to Sam, blinking a few times. "You wanna go?"

"No. I absolutely wanna stay." Sam grinned, blinking the hair out of his eyes. "I want Christmas sex. You think it might be as good as make up sex?" There was a slow glow of warmth in his chest that had been building as he watched the smile on his brother's face.

"I imagine it'll be better. Probably with you bent over the couch or something, we'll see." Dean laughed and crossed to his brother, punching his arm softly. "Come on, let's go dig up this damn grave. I just want this thing to be _done_."

"Ready whenever you are."

Dean led the way out of their apartment, not thinking about what they'd have to clean up when they got back, and out to the car. He hadn't thought about the Christmas presents still in the back seat until Sam was pulling open the passenger seat, Dean took a deep breath before sliding in behind the wheel. Maybe his brother wouldn‘t notice.

"I drove by the graveyard earlier, it's pretty heavily covered by trees, we should both be able to dig without any problems." Dean kept his eyes forward as he started the car and took them out of the parking lot.

"Did you rob an orphanage or something on the way back?" Sam was grinning while he brushed his hair back off his forehead. Oh, he'd _seen_ the presents in the back seat of the car. He'd always been pretty eagle-eyed when it came to things that were wrapped.

"Hardy har." Dean rolled his eyes then shrugged his shoulder, purposefully not looking toward his brother. "I could still take them back you know."

"Dude, that's totally anti-Christmas to do that. Once the presents have been sighted that's it. You can't take them back." Sam nodded firmly and stole a peek into the backseat. There were quite a few presents.

"Then don't give me crap about it. I just, you know." Dean shrugged once more because he couldn't really explain the sudden need to have things for Sam to open on Christmas morning.

There was a crooked grin of Sam's face and he slid a little closer to his brother. "Not givin' you crap. Just... being me." As he slid down at little and got comfortable he let his knee fall against his brother's.

"Mmm." Dean hummed softly and let his hand fall back over Sam's shoulder. "I better get just as many gifts or you're making it up to me."

That was a statement that gave Sam pause. "Make it up to you?"

"That's not an excuse for you not to get me presents." Dean glanced down at Sam, lips pursing. "But you know, make it up to me. I'm sure you can get pretty creative about that."

" _So_ , not a threat. Dude, that's just like a whole n'other present for me." Satisfied smirk on his face, Sam stretched out a little further and stretched his arm over Dean's thigh.

"God you're an ass," Dean grumbled but his hand slid down so his fingers tucked into the top of Sam's jeans. "You'll feel guilty if you're opening all these presents on Christmas morning and all you've got me is like, uh." Dean paused, realizing quite suddenly that he couldn't think of a single thing he wanted that he didn't already have.

"Yeah? Gonna drop a gift suggestion?" Sam already had a few things - he's been quick off the mark when he'd realized gift-giving was going to be a _thing_ for them.

"No." Dean shook his head, laughing softly. "Can't think of anything I don't got." His arm tightened around Sam and he turned in to press his lips briefly to the top of Sam's hair, cheesy moment be damned. "You know me best, m'sure you can figure it out."

"Got it covered," Sam said quickly. "After this, we should get some groceries, huh? You do know it's Christmas Eve, right?" It wasn't normally a holiday they paid attention to so it wouldn't surprise Sam if his brother had forgotten.

Frowning turning his lips down, Dean turned into the cemetery and shook his head. "No, I had no idea actually. No wonder that guy said I was pushing it. Nothin' like digging up a grave on Christmas Eve huh?" Dean laughed as he pulled along the side of the road, looking over at Sam. "Hope there's still turkey at the grocery store."

"I'm sure we can find something, even a chicken. Chicken, turkey, meatloaf. Whatever. I got you." Before Dean could protest Sam stretched up and kissed his brother then slid out of the car to walk around to the trunk.

Following Sam, Dean climbed out of the car and moved around the back in time to grab his own shovel. "I'm not making fuckin' meatloaf of Christmas. It's turkey, chicken, or ham. And if Wal-Mart is out of all three we'll go somewhere else to find them." He shut the trunk and led the way through the melting snow, silently praying the sun had warmed the ground enough to make digging possible.

"Yes, Sir." Sam slung his shovel over his shoulder and reached out to slip his hand in Dean's jacket pocket. "S'warmer," he said softly. Sometimes, Dean let him get away with things like that, sometimes, he didn't. Sam was always ready to try.

"How are you the jolly green giant and fuckin' freezing all the time? That makes no sense. Dude, the inside of you radiates heat why doesn't the rest of you?" Dean smirked over at Sam then stepped behind a large tree, using the shovel to clear some of the dirt aside then nodding. "This is the place."

"Okay then." Sam pulled his jacket off and rolled up his sleeves. He wasn't actually cold; it was a complete sham to get closer to his brother. After a few minutes of digging they'd both be drenched in sweat. Winking at Dean, Sam jammed his shovel into the earth.

The ground wasn't as bad as Dean was anticipating but it certainly wasn't easy work. Most of the time he and Sam would exchange a few jabs, or keep up some form of a conversation while they dug but Dean didn't try this time. It certainly didn't feel like the middle of winter by the time they were making any progress on the dirt.

Dean had his shirt off and was wiping at beads of sweat on his brow when Sam finally hit the top of the casket. He groaned and rolled his shoulders back, shaking his head at his brother. "I'm getting too old for this shit. You wanna get the salt and gas while I clear off the casket?"

Nodding, Sam threw his shovel up onto the grass nearby and climbed out of the grave. It certainly wasn't one of the more glamorous parts of their job; digging up peoples' graves. Not only was it hard work, it was kind of disturbing when Sam put too much thought into it.

Jogging over to the car he popped the trunk and got a bottle of lighter fluid and a container of rock salt. As he sauntered back over to Dean he tried to estimate how many times they had done this over the years; an almost impossible task.   
"Here," Sam said. Tossing the items down on the ground he reached out a hand to haul his brother up. "You check he was actually in there?"

"Yeah, he is." Dean nodded slowly and looked over at his brother, brushing dirt off his arm before grabbing his shirt. "Feels kind of fucked up you know? This guy, he fought in a war, and all because some sicko murdered his family he snapped. Yeah he's hurting people, we gotta make it stop, but he's not getting any of the recognition he should be."

That exact thought had occurred to Sam when he'd found out about Private Lawrence. "Don't think we ever really give enlisted guys the thanks they're due. Can't think about this like that too much; it kinda makes me head spin." He handed the salt to Dean and crouched there by the side of the grave as his brother left a trail of salt around the coffin, then along the top of it.

Lighting a match, Dean dropped it down into the grave and the gas instantly caught, the coffin lighting and sending off a strong heat. Dean stepped back and leaned against the tree, sighing softly.

He knew they had to stay and watch to make sure everything burned before scooping the dirt back into the grave but he didn't want to watch. "Why couldn't he have just redecorated people's places? Then we wouldn't have needed to do this." He hadn't anticipated _caring_ this much about the Private, especially not after the night before.

Sam shrugged a shoulder and sat back on his ass. The flames licked at the coffin and Sam stood to move over and lean against the tree by his brother. "Guess, well. I think you'd be bored. Maybe this isn't the perfect job to have - but - at least we know if we're doing it that it's done right. It's done respectful. And we stop people from getting hurt."

Leave to his brother to actually have wise words about the whole hunting thing. Dean bumped their shoulders together and nodded. "Yeah. at least there's that. I'm sure if the Private knew what he'd become in the afterlife he'd want us to do this anyway."

The light from the pyre was lighting up Dean's face, dancing over his cheeks and Sam smiled and shifted a little closer.

Even though it had been late - after two - when they'd fallen asleep, Dean found himself awake at half past nine, his eyes snapping open and a wide grin almost instantly stretching across his lips. Dean had insisted they stay up to make sure there was no reappearance of the Christmas tornado and when nothing happened - and no screams came from other apartments - Dean was satisfied that they had taken care of the problem for good.

By the time they'd crawled into bed Sam was almost instantly asleep and Dean just barely managed to stay awake long enough to tuck in close to him before he was asleep as well. Now though, he was wide awake, and it was _Christmas_. For years he had not let himself get excited about it because they didn't acknowledge the holiday, now he felt like a little kid discovering the meaning of the day all over again.

Rolling silently out of bed, Dean headed down the hall and tugged on his shoes and coat. He had no idea what Sam had done with his presents but he'd left Sam's in the car, just in case the grinchy ghost came back for another round. He carried the stack back inside and arranged them under the tree before starting up a pot of coffee and tugging the fridge open.

Dean was the best brother in the entire world, of course, so he let Sam sleep while he got things started. Dean had never really cooked a full-fledged meal like this before - which didn't mean he didn't want too - and he was kind of looking forward to it. He chopped up the celery and apples for stuffing, peeled potatoes for homemade mashed potatoes, and got the turkey all situated until it was ready to go in the oven.

By the time it the clock said eleven Dean was frosting cinnamon rolls, the turkey was cooking, the potatoes were soaking, and the cheesecake Sam had insisted on was defrosting on the counter. Dean was understandably pleased with himself though he was admittedly a little annoyed that all the crashing of pans and pots hadn't woken Sam but that was fine, he could wake up his brother easily.

Heading back into the bedroom, Dean let his entire body drop heavily down onto Sam, laughing already. "Wake up Sammy, it's _Christmas_."

Sam had been awake for a while, waiting, wondering if Dean was going to come in and get him. "Took ya long enough," he muttered. Nosing into Dean's hair Sam coiled his arms around his brother and kissed him. "Merry Christmas."

"I was making food, you incapable of walkin' or something?" Dean laughed and slanted his lips over Sam's, deepening the kiss. "Merry Christmas," he murmured into Sam's mouth before pressing in again.

While Sam's mouth was moving over Dean's he slid his arm out to the side and tucked it under Dean's pillow. Pulling back from the kiss he grinned up at his brother. "Oh look! Santa visited you, Dean!"

Laughing, Sam pulled a full Christmas stocking across his chest.

Dean looked at the stocking and grinned before rolling to the side and sitting up. He took the stocking from Sam and tipped it upside down. An assortment of items fell across Dean's lap and he picked through them. A couple of chocolate bars, an air freshener for the car that made him laugh, a box of bullets, lighter fluid, a zippo and a couple packs of gum. Dean laughed and looked up at his brother, shaking his head. "This stocking basically sums me up in a few items."

Sliding everything to the side, Dean climbed off the bed and headed to the dresser. He tugged open the top drawer and pulled out a stocking he'd gotten for Sam, grinning as he headed back over to the bed and dropped it down in front of him. "Of course I can't be out done."

Sam laughed louder than he had in a very long time and shook his stocking until everything was out of it. He ooo'd loudly when he picked up a packet of new pens and was still tearing them open with his teeth while he was examining his new toothbrush. Of course, the tooth brush was pink.

When he finally got the pens open he laid them out and then moved on to tear into a pack of gum. "Sugarless," he said and grinned. The next thing he found was a new wallet. "Dude! I totally needed a new one, my other one got Windigo guts all over it."

"Yeah and I'm pretty sure there's a hole in it." Dean laughed and leaned forward to kiss his brother once more. "I made cinnamon rolls. Turkey's in the oven, coffee's fresh."

"Really?" It wasn't that Sam didn't believe his brother was onboard with the whole Christmas thing. He should have known actually. Whenever Dean decided he was going to do something he did it well. "I think I want to marry you. Cinnamon rolls." Sam's mouth was watering just thinking about it.

"Fairly certain that's illegal in all fifty states." Dean laughed and held up his hand, grinning at his brother. "Wait here."

Maybe it was out of character of him to be so excited about this thing but it had been a long time since he could give Sam a day to just be happy, to not think about anything bad, and Dean was going to do everything he could to keep a smile on that man's face all day. So he poured two cups of coffee, fixing his brother's up the way he liked it and grabbed the plate of cinnamon rolls, somehow managing to carry all the items to the bedroom and setting them on the night stand by Sam.   
"Now you can't deny that I'm amazing." Dean grinned at his brother and climbed up onto the bed once more.

"Don't plan on it," Sam said quietly. Sitting up in bed he stared down at his hands for a few long moments then back up at his brother. "This is. This is-" looking away, Sam swallowed down the emotion that was welling inside him. His fingers hooked over his brother's wrist. "It's the best, Dean."

Something warm curled through Dean and he nodded slowly, reaching out with his free hand to tip Sam's jaw back so their eyes could meet. "Yeah, it really is." He grinned at Sam and leaned forward for another lingering kiss before sitting back. "Cinnamon rolls," he called happily and snatched up the plate, setting it between them so he could pluck one off the plate and take a large bite.

Happiness swirled through Sam's body and he picked up a cinnamon roll and licked at the icing. "Gawd, soo good." He hadn't had homemade rolls in a long time, in fact, he wasn't sure he ever had. "How'd you learn to make stuff like this?" Sinking his teeth into the doughy goodness Sam grinned.

"Worked as a cook for a little while." Dean shrugged and popped the rest of his cinnamon roll into his mouth. He reached out for another and looked up at Sam, snorted at his wide eyes. "What? I did."

"You never told me that." Sam stuffed the rest of the roll in his mouth. Grinning, he licked his fingers and moaned happily. If Holidays involved cooking things like freshly baked cinnamon rolls he was all over it.

"It was when I stopped for a bit. I mean, I was hunting a bigger thing; Dad was doing a lot of the research. During that time with Cassie. I worked at a dinner and the guy there, Robert, taught me some tricks. Cinnamon rolls happened to be one of his specialties." Dean shrugged and turned his cinnamon roll toward Sam, swiping it over his nose then leaning forward to lick it off. "The icing is particularly pleasant with skin," he murmured deeply.

Sam's eyes widened a little and his expression softened. "I'd better get out of bed, or … I won't." Leaning in closer, Sam lapped at the icing at the corner of Dean's mouth.

Dean hummed softly then nodded, pulling back. "Yeah. We should, get out of bed." He laughed and slid off the edge, standing up and stretching. "Thankfully I saved some of the icing, we can use it later." Dean smirked over his shoulder at Sam then headed out of the room.

Sam wasn't used to laughing so early in the morning, nor was he used to actually _wanting_ to get up and get moving. Sliding out of bed, he pulled on his jeans and stuffed his feet in a pair of socks. He was still a bit tangled in his t-shirt when he padded down the hall. "Smells good out here," he mumbled from under the material.

"Good," Dean laughed and dropped down in front of the Christmas tree, looking up at Sam with a grin as he leaned out and plugged the lights in. "Can we open presents now?"

"Hmmm." Looking as disinterested as he could, Sam wandered over to the tree and looked at it. "I guess so. You sure you want to?" When he looked down at Dean, his heart kinda flip flopped in his chest. Dean's cheeks were rosy, his eyes sparkly and there was a smear of icing on his cheek.

"Well I could just keep the things I got you. Even if they'd do me no good. Did you even get me anything?" Dean had yet to see any _actual_ presents and no, he wasn't going to throw a fit if Sam didn't get him anything but still.

Laughter burst out of Sam again; he wondered if this was going to become a habit. Sam headed down the hall to the closet and pulled out a sack he'd hidden in his duffel bag. Slinging it over his shoulder he walked back down the hall and dumped the sack full of presents in Dean's lap.

"Oh my god Sam, why didn't you tell me?" Dean looked up at his brother with wide eyes and a smirk. "You're Santa Claus? I should have known!"

"Ass," Sam muttered. When he sank down to the floor he made a point of falling against his brother. "What do I get to open first?"

Dean was still grinning as he handed a present over to Sam, sitting back to watch him. There was nothing like the smile Sam got on his face when he was genuinely pleased or surprised and that was what happened when Sam opened up the first present. Maybe it was because it was a book, Giovanni's Room by James Baldwin, or because Dean explained how the book talked about relationships, how it might make them both see things through different eyes.

The first gift Dean opened was just as emotional he supposed as the one Sam had opened. It was a watch, engraved on the inside with SW and DW. Dean was surprised by the bite of tears and Sam laughed when he threw wrapping paper at him and said it was unfair to make him emotional on the first present.

They continued to exchange gifts back and forth like that, each a little moving in their own ways. Sam got a mobile broadband device that Dean promised to pay monthly for so they'd always have internet, a brand new pair of shoes since he'd been bitching about his old ones for a while, a few nicer shirts that Dean insisted he would need because he'd be taking Sam to nicer places every now and then, and a braided leather necklace with a purposefully rusted stone in the middle that was meant to bring good luck.

Dean probably could have been completely content simply watching Sam enjoy each of his new presents but Sam grinned and urged him to continue with his own gifts after each one, so he did. Dean got a small Impala ornament - like a promise that their Christmases would continue now - a selection of vintage rock t-shirts that felt already soft and worn, and a leather band to wrap around his wrist.

Dean hadn't felt this happy and content in years and he was almost scared to enjoy it but Sam's smile was bright and as he set the last of the wrapping away he couldn't help climbing over to him and hugging him tightly. "Thank you," he murmured and kissed Sam's cheek.

Humming softly Sam slipped his hand down and picked up one last package that was tucked under his leg. "I got one more," he whispered. He nudged the small square into Dean's chest and grinned sheepishly. "It's not much - but - it's... well, open it."

Sitting back, Dean looked curiously down at the package then up at Sam, soft smile on his lips. "Sneaky ninja Sam," Dean laughed softly and slowly unwrapped the package, pulling the lid off a moment later. The smile wavered on his face as he stared down at the framed image of himself and Sam.

They were younger, in their teens or pre-teens, and they sat at the beach in just swim trunks. Dean couldn't remember why but his head was thrown back in the image, his arm slung over Sam's shoulder. Emotion stirred up in Dean and he cleared his throat, looking up at his brother. "Where did you even get this?"

"I've had that photo with me for years. 'Cause it was that summer, when I ... well, when I realized how I felt about you. I _knew_ that you felt the same and I knew that you'd just wait - just - be my brother until we could be more." Tears welled in Sam's eyes and he looked down. "So, you remember when you asked me if I knew how you felt? Yes, Dean. I do know." He pointed to the photo and ran his finger down it. Finally looking up again, Sam smiled shyly. "I knew then."

"God." Dean blinked a few times, surprised that he could see it too. Even in this small picture, when they were younger and it shouldn't be so obvious, Dean could see how he felt. He swallowed thickly and set the picture aside, pushing forward so his arms could wrap around Sam and their lips could crush together. It was the closest he could get to any actual words or gratitude, but he knew Sam got what it meant.

Sam's heart sped up then slowed as his body settled against his brother's, their mouths moving together easily. Sliding his fingers up into Dean's hair, Sam held on tight. Sometimes, he didn't want to let his brother go.

Dean pushed Sam down onto the carpet and slipped his tongue forward, mapping along every inch of Sam. He straddled his brother's hips, pulling back a moment later to stare down at him. "Don't ever leave me okay?" He muttered, not even sure he knew where the request came from.

Sam's brows dipped together for a few moments then he smiled softly, hand pressed over his brother's heart. "Never."

"Then everything's good," Dean murmured and dipped in to kiss along Sam's neck once more. "Oh by the way? You're doing the dishes tonight."

Sam laughed and turned into Dean's hair, it was soft, no gel and Sam rubbed his nose along the silky strands. "I can do that. If I get both drumsticks off the turkey."

"Oh bullshit," Dean huffed and grabbed along Sam's sides, rolling away when his brother knee jerked up on instinct. "One drumstick and a blow job."

"Deal." Sam figured he definitely got the _best_ part of _that_ deal.


End file.
